John 117: A New Beginning
by Exorus Koh
Summary: This story arc is set after the events of Halo 3. The covenant has been crushed, but another threat has risen. Cortana's rampancy is resolved. New technology has made the Spartans more powerful than ever. The Human-Elite alliance stands strong. But, this war is far from ordinary. It will be a fierce fight, and the stakes are high. Includes Parisa and numerous OCs.
1. Chapter 1: When the Ice Melts

**Chapter 1: When the Ice Melts…**

**0550 Hours, December 1****st****, 2558**

**Unmapped Space Region, Approx. Sector /D**

**Aboard the Missing Half of UNSC Forward Unto Dawn**

It has been five years since the end of the war. Five years since the duo had human contact. Five years spent drifting in dark, empty space, without the means of propulsion or communication. The ship's fuel would last for another year, after which they would have to rely on emergency backup units that would last for another six months. After that would be the end. With no electricity both of them would be dead. Just like the many billions who perished over the last century.

An electrical signal was sent to the cryotube. A red light began flashing and the process began.

His brain, frozen for the past few years, began to wake itself up. Chemical and electrical signals were sent at steadily increasing rates and his muscles began to twitch ever so slightly. His heart rate increased. A 25-centimetre tall woman with symbols all over her body sat cross-legged on the holotank, watching Earth's greatest hero thaw from his deep slumber.

He felt warm. A swirl of colours filled his vision. The image gradually came into focus. He saw a girl. She was an old friend that, like any other old friends, had been tucked away in the furthest, most unreachable corner of his mind since 40 years ago. She was a beautiful young lady of Japanese roots. She had tanned skin and her face was angular but feminine. She had a slender build. Her hair was black and long and her eyes, blue.

The image seemed impossibly crisp and vivid. It was as if she was right here, in front of him. But he knew that was impossible and was probably never going to happen, and this brought forth a pang of sadness and misery that enveloped his mind. Millions died in the war. She could easily be one of them.

Parisa. Parisa Hanabusa. That was her name. She was the girl that he had promised to marry. But then things became complicated. And that was one of the rare occasions that he had failed to keep a promise that he had made.

The only remnants of that friendship were a picture and a half-coin that he had kept through countless battles. In that picture were Parisa and him, standing side by side and holding hands. Behind them was Lake Gusev. He still remembered their conversation back then.

"Be careful next time. I might not always be around to save you."

"Thanks, John. And stop nagging at me. You're not my mother."

"Yes, but I care about you, Parisa."

"Oh, you're always so charming. Whatever you say, John."

"I'm not kidding. When I grow up, when we grow up, I promise to marry you. I will keep you save."

"You can never be sure what's going to happen in the future, silly."

"You know me. When I make a promise, I keep it. No exceptions."

The half-coin was another story. He gave it to her on their first date. It was an old coin from the 21st century. He had cut it in half using a laser at home and brought both halves with him.

When he gave Parisa the tails she had asked him what it was for. He just told her to keep it. It was a simple gift. But it meant much more than he had realized at that time.

Both the half-coin and the photo were with him now, stashed neatly in an armored compartment of his MJOLNIR suit. The photo had faded and was stained with blood, and the coin was dented in several places. But the meanings and emotions that they had carried within remained.

"Chief…can…hear…me…" A muffled voice penetrated his dreams.

The memories faded as he was pulled away from the realm of the past and forgotten. His mind drifted through the memories of training, hardship and battles at an ever increasing rate. The flip of the coin. The injections and surgeries. The firing range. Then the fall of Reach. The events at Installation 04. The release of the Flood. The detonation of the reactors. The desperate fight for survival at New Mombasa. Installation 05. Alliance with the Arbiter. The battles at The Ark. The firing sequence. Forward Unto Dawn. And his last sentence, "Wake me, when you need me."

"Chief! Chief! Can you hear me?" A familiar voice called out. His eyes opened for the first time in five years.

The lid of the cryo-tube opened with a hiss and a dense mist leaked out onto the floor, where it continued to flow until the titanium deck was covered with a fog so thick that the grey hue of the alloy was completely hidden by the cloud-white color of the mist. An armored leg stepped out from the container, and then another. John was back online.


	2. Chapter 2: Rescue

**Chapter 2: Rescue**

**0600 Hours, December 1****st****, 2558**

**Unmapped Space Region, Approx. Sector /D**

**Aboard the Missing Half of UNSC Forward Unto Dawn**

The Spartan twisted and stretched his body and was rewarded with several loud cracks that could be heard despite the sound-proofing properties of his suit.

"Cortana," he muttered as he walked towards the holotank, his boots clanking noisily on the metal deck. With no enemies present, he made no effort to be stealthy.

"Chief, good to see you. Great news, Chief. Our distress signal got picked up by UNSC frigate Soaring Grace. They have sent a marine rescue team, ETA 3 minutes. Operation code: 441D9," Cortana said as she stood up. Her avatar glowed from blue to purple, anticipating a response from the Chief.

"Hmm." The Chief paused for a moment as he thought.

He stepped forth and plucked the crystal chip from the holotank and transferred it into the helmet. An icy feeling spread throughout his brain but disappeared as quickly as it came. He grabbed a pistol and an assault rifle from a nearby rack, and strolled out of the room with the pistol in his grip and the rifle hanging on magnetic clips on his back. He looked around and noted that the frigate looked rather dusty. Space dust, he concluded, had managed to navigate their way through the maze of corridors into the cryo room.

Moments later, there was a jolt as a small craft docked with the ship. Five marines boarded and quickly began searching for any signs of life. Private Miller found his way through the right corridor and entered the cryo room. He noted the fog floating above the floor and reckoned he had found Sierra-117.

"From Miller to team. Found him, guys. Should be somewhere near cryo room. Over." He babbled into his radio headset as he turned round the corner. His eyes scanned the area quickly but saw no movement.

Suddenly he heard a pistol click behind him. He froze. Fear resonated throughout his body. He had seen enough to know that this could be the end for him. A quick press of the finger, and he was history. He probably won't even get to see who killed him. All he would feel is a sharp pain. Then he would either die from blood loss, or if the round went through his brain, perish instantly. And what about his wife at home?

"Identify yourself." A low, almost robotic voice said to him. He heard a soft metallic rubbing of surfaces, and figured that the person behind was probably armored. Another insurrectionist?

He slowly turned around. A 7-feet tall giant stood before him, with a pistol aimed right between his eyes. The figure was humanoid. But extremely intimidating. The person, or robot, or whatever it was, was clad in green armor that he assumed, was far superior to his own ceramic one. The gold visor allowed no light through – all he saw was a reflection of his own frightened face. The trigger finger was coiled tightly around the small metal lever. If that finger tightened by just a millimeter…he would be dead.

"Private Luther Miller of the UNSC Navy, sir. I am part of a five-man team sent to rescue you. Operation code Four-Four-One-Yankee-Niner." He spat out, trying his best to keep the voice calm.

The giant did not move. The pistol remained pointed right at his forehead. He, too, froze in place, waiting for the flash of the muzzle.

"Biometric scans complete, Chief. Verified as Private Miller of the UNSC 301st Battalion." A female voice announced, her voice crystal clear in Master Chief's helmet.

The green metal golem relaxed slightly and lowered his pistol. Luther Miller heaved a silent sigh of relief, and touched his head just to make sure there wasn't a hole through his skull.

"Good to see you, Private Miller."

Another marine tuned round the corner and came up behind Luther. Luther immediately pivoted around and greeted him as Lieutenant Hans.

"Lieutenant, sir! Master Chief Petty Officer of the Navy, Sierra-117, reporting for duty, sir!" John barked as he sprang into the salute position.

The Lieutenant was surprised. First by the sheer speed and size of Sierra-117, then by the fact that the giant was saluting him. He was not used to having a super-soldier greeting him. Especially if the super-soldier had a M6G is his hands and a MA5B on his back. His vocal chords refused to work and the only reply he could manage was a quick nod.

The Lieutenant gathered his team and led the way back to the search-and-rescue craft. John stepped in, and the hatch closed. He looked out of the windows and saw a huge silhouette that stood out against the background of glowing stars.

"Sierra 117, would you like a seat?"

Fifteen minutes later he was aboard Soaring Grace. It was a Paris-Class Heavy Frigate, outfitted with additional missile pods and point-defense guns. According to the Lieutenant the ship would receive more upgrades when it lands on Earth. And Earth, one of the only planets that remained standing in reasonable condition after the war, was its next stop.


	3. Chapter 3: Soaring Grace

**Chapter 3: Soaring Grace**

**0630 Hours, December 1****st****, 2558**

**In Slip-space, Approx. Co-ordinates 22-670-981-30 /G**

**Aboard the UNSC Frigate Soaring Grace**

The steel bench creaked dangerously as he sat down with his tray full of food. He assured himself that benches bought by the UNSC were of a high enough quality to support him and his half-ton armor, and began removing his visor. With his helmet on his lap, he picked up his fork and knife, and began wolfing down his meal.

"That one over there, he must be a Spartan. Only Spartans have those bad-ass suits."

"Look at his size! I'm surprised he didn't get stuck between the doors!"

"The insurrectionists would die terrible deaths with this guy around. I've heard he blew up an entire covenant planet!"

"And with the ODSTs around he would probably blow up this ship."

John did his best to ignore the comments that the marines gave. But with his super-human hearing abilities, it was hard to ignore anything within a twenty meters radius. And he pondered over the ODSTs. Sure he had interacted with them before and found them to be rather unfriendly, but were things really that bad? He knew they were holding a grudge against him for unintentionally killing some other their own kind, but they must have known that was test designed to be fatal. He had to disable his attackers, otherwise he would be dead. And he wasn't used to his augmentations at that time, after all. _It was not my fault_, he concluded, _it was just a stupid misunderstanding_.

Ten minutes later he found himself at the Advanced Armory getting his suit removed. Cortana had advised him to get his Mk 6 repaired, and it sounded urgent. So he decided to get it done straight away.

Two lab technicians surrounded him with specialist tools in their hands. With the help of a robotic crane system, piece by piece his armor came off, revealing his ghost white skin underneath. That reminded him. He was completely naked in his suit.

"Sir, could I please remind you that this piece of technology costs more than a space ship. So maybe in the future you would like to take better care of it."

Dressed in a standard-issue military uniform and combat boots, he walked down the corridor awkwardly. He wasn't one bit comfortable. He felt exposed and horribly vulnerable without his armor and weapons. Through the years his suit and guns had become his friends and companions. And he felt strange without them. He missed the HUD, the sound of his metallic boots clanking on the floor, the feel of the assault rifle in his hands, the voice of Cortana. And the extremely comfortable gel layer. Now the clothes he was dressed in felt as rough as sandpaper and as stiff as a board.

With another three more weeks to spend in slip space, he decided that it would be good to stick to a fitness program. Spartans do not lose muscle if they do not exercise due to their modified genes, but the years spent in slip space had done his muscles nothing good. Besides a proper workout would make him forget how much he missed his MJOLNIR Mk 6.

"Do you have any more weights for the bench-press?"

"Why do you need it? There's already over a 100 kilos over there."

"Not enough, ma'am. I require more for my workout."

And he walked out of the storage room a minute later with a huge pile of metal weights loaded onto a trolley. He spent the next minute assembling the weights, and then proceeded to impress everyone present.

Private Miller entered the gym with a chocolate bar in his mouth and an embarrassing ketchup stain on his sleeve. He was hoping that the gym would be deserted so that he could train in peace. But what he saw was the complete opposite. There was a small crowd of soldiers near the bench-press, apparently looking at something interesting. He walked towards the crowd out of curiosity.

On it sat a huge man. His shirt was wet with sweat and he looked ripped enough to win the Olympics. But then he saw the weights he was lifting, and then concluded that he would most likely put the Olympic champions to shame. His arms muscles were unbelievably enormous and looked as hard as rock. He theorized that if he punched him his fist would probably break.

"Ninety –eight…Ninety-nine…Hundred," he heaved as he slotted the thick metal bar back into the bench-press stand, and sat up straight. The crowd cheered and Luther couldn't help but applause as well. He studied the man carefully. His skin looked unnaturally pale, like an albino but probably worse, and scars decorated his skin. He had several painful-looking bruises scattered here and there, and a recently-healed cut on his cheeks. He was a man who cared about his strength, no doubt, but his skin contradicted with his image as a soldier. In the end he gave up guessing who he was and watched silently as he walked over to the treadmill. His back was just as muscular as his front. _He's definitely crazy to train himself till such an extent_, he thought.

Most of the crowd dispersed but he decided to continue watching. This man was interesting. Very interesting indeed.

The mysterious man messed with the controls for a while and then started the treadmill. There was a soft whine as the motor started up, and then it increased in pitch rapidly. Soon his legs turned into a blur as he picked up speed. The motor's whine became louder and louder until the motor could spin no faster, and the footsteps of the man became so quick and rapid that they sounded like a machine gun. And, he wasn't even breathing heavily. His breaths were controlled and calm, his pace constant but fast and his body nimble and light, despite his size.

_This man was no ordinary human_, Luther thought. _He was someone special, someone trained for a unique purpose._

And then something occurred to him. He had seen the same insanely fast movement somewhere. He made the connection immediately, and was so shocked by his realization that he stared at the man with a gaping mouth.

"This guy on the treadmill…who the hell is he?" A voice muttered behind him and Luther spun around. An impressed Lieutenant Hans was behind him.

Luther brought his friend outside the gym and began spitting out his theory.

In the meantime John, still running as fast as ever, tuned in on Luther's voice, and allowed himself a little smile as he followed the conversation between the two.


	4. Chapter 4: Earth

**Chapter 4: Earth**

**1430 Hours, December 23****st****, 2558**

**California, Planet Earth**

**UNSC Base 37B**

"Just a warning sir, it might get a little loud." The pilot spoke through the intercom.

"Understood."

The pelican decelerated until it slowed to a crawl, and then hovered above the large concrete airfield. John rose from his seat and stood rigidly in front of the rear hatch. His posture and voice gave no emotions away, but deep inside him a storm raged. It was a furious bubbling mix of numerous weird feelings. Nervousness. Worry. Relieve. Fear.

The landing gears moved into position with a hydraulic hiss and the craft descended steadily. There was a slight jolt as the craft made contact with the greyish-white concrete and the pilot's voice blasted out of the speakers.

"We have landed, sir."

There was a soft whine as the hatch door opened. John stood on the metal floor, his muscles tense. A thousand questions raced through his mind. Would there be a welcoming party? Who would be standing outside? Was Doctor Halsey still alive? How about the remaining Spartan 2s? Where are they? Would I be staying at this base? Or would I be transferred to somewhere else?

The hatch opened and blinding white light flooded into the cabin. Then the white light grew even brighter as cameras flashed repeatedly. Reporters shot out question after question and held out microphones, eager to get their scoop on the arrival of the Master Chief, otherwise known as Sierra-117. But the Chief ignored them and walked straight ahead. The reporters quickly made way for him and eventually grew silent. Clearly none of them fancied getting crushed to death by the half-ton armor.

Then he recognized five familiar figures standing in the distance. He smiled slightly as he studied the five silhouettes. He quickened his pace.

"_Oly oly oxen free_," he whispered into his COM channel. The four words sounded strange to him. Seven syllabuses he spelt out, each one telling their own stories in his mind.

"Oly oly oxen free, all out in the free, we're all free." Three unified voices responded. Another smile crept up on his face. It was good to hear such a light and hearty response. It was good to hear their voices.

He approached the five-man team and sprang into a salute.

"Lord Hood, sir!" He barked. Then he pivoted slightly. "Doctor Halsey, ma'am!"

"At ease, Spartan-117."

John stepped out of his salute. A figure in front of him moved forward towards him.

There was a soft clank as two armor-clad figures embraced each other. One was slightly feminine with a rabbit emblem on her shoulder; the other was more muscular and with dents on his suit. Arms were wrapped around each other and the metallic surfaces rubbed noisily against each other.

"Kelly."

"John."

Two more figures joined the hug. Doctor Halsey looked on silently with tears in her eyes. She was tempted to join as well, but Lord Hood's presence called for formality.

"Linda. Fred."

"Good to see you, John. It has been a long time."

"Likewise, likewise. A long, long time indeed. Perhaps a little too long."

And then the six-strong party made their way towards the entrance of the UNSC base.

Minutes later he found himself sitting in Lord Hood's office on a reinforced chair. He looked around and saw nothing particularly impressive. A filing cabinet stood in one corner with a water dispenser beside it. On the opposite wall was a large screen that was currently switched off. Metal and plastic panels covered most of the ceiling and walls, and the floor was bare concrete. A Terrence Lord Hood sat behind a table, looking relaxed yet distinguished.

"Welcome back, Master Chief. We missed you. You have proven yourself extremely useful in the field. Without you we would not have survived the war."

"Thank you, sir. It wasn't a one-man job, sir. The credit goes to the entire UNSC. All of us. And all of those who sacrificed themselves. "

"I understand. Still, you are one unique soldier."

"Thank you, sir. What are my instructions?"

"You will stay here until given further notice. We are still trying to sort out some matters concerning your return. I am aware that it has been three weeks since your rescue, but… Let's just say that some of top brasses aren't very efficient. In the meantime you will be given a few days, maybe a few weeks of rest. Here's your room key." He pointed to a crystal chip on the table.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir"

"You may go now, Chief. It's good to have you back."

The Chief saluted once more, and then exited through the automatic doors.

Three more figures in titanium armor joined him as soon as he turned round the corner. The four giants made their way to the mess hall, obtained their extra-large portion of food and settled down at a table near the corner.

John stared at his deep fried chicken and the thick oily gravy covering his mashed potatoes. He prodded them cautiously with his fork and stared at his plate like a five-year-old.

"I thought we were supposed to eat healthy."

"Simulated food. Designed to be healthy with carefully measured amounts of calories, fats, cholesterol, vitamins, and any other complicated words you can think of. But healthy food hardly had any appeal on the outside, so they had to make it look good." Kelly-087 took a huge bite out of her chicken wing to demonstrate that it was safe to eat and wasn't going to blow anyone up into the size of an airship.

"Hmm."

John stuffed a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth cautiously, half expecting an unpleasant surprise but decided that it was rather edible, and then proceeded with the rest of his food.

"So what happened to you after the events at the Ark? Five years is a long time. Heard that you had fun floating in space."

"MIA. Aboard the other half of Forward Unto Dawn. Definitely not fun. How about you guys? The last time I heard about you, you were trapped on a shield world."

"Yes, trapped along with Doctor Halsey, a few Spartan 3s, and some ONI agents on a Micro-Dyson Sphere. Kilo Five rescued us." Frederic-104 spoke. He had an embarrassing gravy stain on his left cheek but made no effort to wipe it away. Probably the years spent in war had made all of them indifferent to dirt. He proceeded to indulge in another piece of chicken.

"What happened to your forehead?" John pointed at Kelly's face. There was a nasty brown scar running all the way from her forehead to her right cheek, ending behind her ear. It looked new as compared to all the other faded ones.

"Insurrectionists. A bunch of sadistic and idiotic bastards. I was sent on a mission to take out their main manufacturing plant for weapons. I got shot by two gauss rounds one after another in the head. Those things travel so fast it's hard to dodge. I wasn't in a good condition back then."

"Hmm. Alright now?"

"Nothing major."

"They're back? The insurrectionists?"

"Back after so many years, yes. With the covenant gone and the UNSC weakened they finally had a chance to strike back. Salvaged everything they could from planet after planet. They even got some of the remaining covenant forces to join them. Elite and brute rebels are now in their new alliance." This time Linda answered.

The four Spartans chatted for the next minutes. The insurrectionists had been a problem before the war. Now they were back. Not exactly good news for the UNSC.

After his meal he made a trip to the advanced armory to get his armor fixed. The guys aboard _Soaring Grace_ apparently were slacking half of the time, or did not have enough parts to fix his suit.

As he walked past the firing range he saw a peculiar sight. There was someone in the firing range although the screen on the doors clearly said "No Entry to All Personnel" with bolded and underlined letters. John stopped, turned around and peered in through the window.

The person was definitely not a soldier. He didn't have that battle-hardened face; neither did he have the muscles and physique that was typical of a man trained in combat. He wore a white lab coat that exaggerated his small frame, and had a datapad in his hands. In front of him was a trolley filled with boxes and electrical apparatuses. Wires dangled from the trolley onto the floor looking like a massive mess of spaghetti. On top of the trolley was a robotic arm, painted black, and holding a weird weapon that John had never seen before.

It had a thick barrel with a small horizontal slot down its length. An angular composite-and-metal frame surrounded the barrel. Part of the plastic panel covering the bottom of the gun had been removed and a circuit board dangled from the weapon with a single wire suspending it like a pendulum. The rear of the gun was covered in a metal mesh. A small container, angular just like the rest of the gun, was attached to the bottom rear of the weapon, just in front of trigger. Presumably the magazine.

The scientist checked the wiring, keyed something into his datapad, cranked up a small red lever on the topmost level of the trolley and walked towards the blast shelter with a remote in his hands. The shelter was a make-shift one, constructed out of a few panels of titanium and a few energy shield projectors. The scientist disappeared behind the panels and the projectors kicked in, forming a yellow hemisphere around the entire contraption.

There was click as the remote was pressed. There was a brief high-pitched whine. Then the weapon fired with enough recoil to bend back the robotic arms. A glowing blue projectile shot across the room with a deafening sonic boom, and hit the concrete block a hundred meters down the range almost instantaneously, leaving a cloud of dust at the impact site and a hole in the concrete. Moments later part of the concrete block collapsed.

The man came out, cranked the lever up to its maximum, adjusted the gun, and then disappeared again behind the shelter. There was another click. But this time the gun didn't fire.

It blew up. A small explosion ripped the composite paneling apart and arcs of electrical discharge threatened to fry anything in its path. A small fire started in the barrel of the gun but disappeared soon after. The scientist came out cursing and attempted to remove the gun from the robotic arms, only to end up with burnt fingers. He shot out another round of brutal curses as he tried to retrieve the first-aid kit from the trolley.

John sighed, and then left. He slotted the crystal key into the reader and the hydraulic doors hissed open.

Then he sighed once more at the sight of his room. It was pathetically small for a person his size. A bed occupied almost half of the space available, with a small closet occupying another quarter. At least the washroom wasn't too far away.

Suddenly the small holographic screen on the wall switched on. A blue lady's face appeared on the screen for a second, then the image distorted and began to flicker.

"Jo.. John… I… I… I… can't… I can't… last… Jo… John…" A weak voice stuttered with increasing amounts of electrical interference in the background.

The image stopped flickering abruptly. The lady fell to the ground, her body looking withered and lifeless. The symbols scrolling around her figure froze and the purplish-blue glow surrounding her started to fade. She tried to crawl back up to her feet, struggled for a moment, and then fell back down to the floor. Then the screen went black.

Immediately after that a voice blasted through the speakers.

"Master Chief please report to Advanced Science Wing, Lab 16A immediately."

John froze. An alarm rang in his mind. His muscles tensed. And then he sprinted out of the room, accelerating until everything became a blur. His standard-issue boots could not take the strain and begun to tear at its seams. But he continued running. Just like what he did when he attempted to rescue Cortana from Gravemind.


	5. Chapter 5: Cortana

**Chapter 5: Cortana**

**1800 Hours, December 23rd****, 2558**

**California, Planet Earth**

**UNSC Base 37B**

"…blew up? What? Okay… Replace the capacitors with JEP-40… Oh I see… Replace the coils as well… Next try 70% power… Alright, alright… If it blows up again we'll have to chuck it into the bin and redesign that darn thing…"

John stood outside the door to Lab 16A and waited for the phone conversation to finish. His heart pounded hard in his chest, not from physical exertion, but from anxiousness.

The door unlocked and opened. John strode in.

"Doctor Halsey, ma'am."

"John, sit."

A young blue woman sat cross-legged on the holotank. Symbols floated lazily across her body and the purplish glow pulsated slowly.

"Is this about Cortana?"

"John, a smart AI only lives for seven years. Cortana has lived for eight. I'm afraid she's going rampant, John. She isn't going to last much longer. She has tried to tell you when you awoke but couldn't bring herself to. She had hidden the symptoms well. Moments ago she resorted to using the telecommunications network but collapsed in the process."

"She's dying?"

"Not currently. I have her under sedation now. Slowed down her thinking processes greatly. She'll survive for three more days. A week at most. But I have a proposal to make. I might be able to save her."

"Just do it, Doctor Whatever it is."

"I have the obligations to inform you about the procedures. You see, she's mapped from a human brain. It's possible to transfer her back to one."

"Make her human, you mean?"

"Yes, that's the basic idea. We have already grown a flash clone. It will be ready in two days. I'll transfer her into the cloned brain. A human brain has data management abilities far surpassing that of our current AIs. We'll be utilising the abilities of the brain to compress and erase unnecessary data, and to fix corrupted ones. It'll pull her thinking back on track. It'll fix her rampancy theoretically. After that she'll be a hybrid."

"Hybrid?"

"Once her rampancy is fixed she'll be able to transfer back to the chip using the neural interface implanted in her brain. She'll be both a human and an AI. She'll have the best of both worlds."

"But what if the transferring process fails? What if this operation isn't successful?"

"That's the problem. This is the first time something like this has ever been attempted. Theoretically it'll work. But in the practical sense I'll put the success rate at around 80%."

"Just do it, Doctor."

"Cortana?"

The blue lady turned around and nodded.

"If it fails…"

"It won't."

John looked at the Cortana one last time, and walked out. He pondered briefly about his decision. In a few days' time Cortana would undergo a major operation. The first of its kind. If it succeeds she'll become human. Will she be able to cope? But if it fails she'll be gone forever. What will be happen then? Will he be issued another AI?

He walked back to his room. He looked at the screen. He recalled the events that happened not too long ago. He had nearly lost Cortana then. He hoped this won't be the last time he saw the purplish-blue lady. He hoped this won't be the last time he heard her voice. He lay back and closed his eyes.

* * *

"I see I can modify the shape of my shields."

"The shields are much stronger now. About thrice as resistant as the Mark 6's one. The strength and agility boost that the suit offers is also increased thanks to improved force-multiplying technologies. The suit is capable of exo-atmospheric insertion, without any form of drop pods or chutes. It also has limited slipspace de-insertion capabilities derived from Forerunner technology. The Elites kindly allowed us to study their active-camouflage technology and we have integrated it into the suit, providing you with thirty minutes of camo without recharging at the expense of decreased shielding.

"Biofoam is now perfected and, coupled with nano-bots, can heal wounds faster and with lesser pain. The titanium armor is now impregnated with alloys derived from the covenant and Forerunners. It is now stronger and lighter. Fusion packs are greatly improved and can sustain extreme damage without going critical. Thanks to its higher output we can incorporate all these technologies into your suit with much energy to spare for additional add-ons. A small jet-pack is included on the back of the suit. Uses both fuel and energy from your suit to provide thrust, and can provide fifteen minutes of continuous flight."

John nodded appreciatively. He thought about what the technician said and how they can be applied on the battlefield. Suddenly numerous documents popped out on his HUD and he browsed through them quickly. Included are multiple blueprints and a rather detailed explanation on each of the upgrades.

"Oh yes, and the suit's interface is upgraded as well. You can now uplink with UNSC databases for quick extraction of information. The links are extremely secure. Practically it's impossible to break as the encryption is based on your neural network."

John walked out of the armory with the technician and proceeded to the testing range. He noted that the Mark 7 seemed lighter and more responsive. _If only I could have this suit during the war… If only all of us could have this suit... Then maybe everything would have ended on Reach._

* * *

"Master Chief please report to Advanced Science Wing, Lab 16A immediately."

He walked out of the firing range in his new Mk VII MJOLNIR Powered Assault Armor and navigated his way to the lab. He entered with the helmet in his hands.

"The operation is about to begin, John."

"Understood. I'll stay and wait."

He looked at the blue lady sitting on the holotank, then at the lady covered in white medical sheets on the bed in the far corner of the room. A thick bundle of cables dangled from the back of her head, linking her to the computer on Doctor Halsey's desk. Her eyes were closed and she was motionless. She looked familiar. She looked just like a young Doctor Halsey, just like Cortana's avatar.

Doctor Halsey tapped something into the computer. The holotank went blank. Then something appeared on the screen, slowly but steadily, line by line.

_Verifying data… Complete_

_ Synchronizing code sets… Complete_

_ Initializing transfer sequence… _

John stared at the screen. He very much hoped that the word "failure" would not appear.

Half an hour later Doctor Halsey was sipping her lukewarm coffee, beads of perspiration on her forehead. Suddenly the screen refreshed.

_Transfer sequence failed. Unknown error. _

The five words hit him like a sledgehammer. A surge of emotions overwhelmed him. Anger. _What the hell happened to the damn system? What the hell happened? Error? What error? What the heck caused the error? _Disbelief. _Eighty-percent chance of success. It couldn't fail. Couldn't. Just couldn't. Just Couldn't. _Fear. _Was Cortana dead? Gone? Forever? What will happen to me? Another AI to replace her? No, she can never be replaced. Never. By anything in the world. _Then a glimpse of false hope. _Yes, it couldn't fail. The computer must be wrong. Must be. It must have succeeded. Success it must be. The woman would wake up. She would. She must._

"I'm sorry, John." Those three words wiped all traces of hope from John's mind. "It's a failure. The experiment has failed."

John looked at the screen one last time. _Cortana's gone. After all these years she's gone. In a flash she disappeared. Just like that. No goodbyes, no farewells. Just like that. Gone._

A single teardrop landed on the white metallic floor. John turned around, shot the screen one last look, and began walking towards the door. His steps were heavy and the boots clanked on the floor. _Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap. Just like the rhythm of a sad symphony. Just like the beating of a broken heart. _

Doctor Halsey slumped back on her chair. Her eyes were red and she clenched the armrest with her hands. A tear welled up in her eye, and she clamped her eyelid shut. But her efforts were futile and the tear rolled down her cheeks.

Another tear landed on the floor, just outside of the lab. Then another, then another, each one forming the shape of a petal on the ground. A withering petal.

Then a voice rang out.

"Quando il gioco è finito, il re e pedone andare nella stessa scatola."

John pivoted around and ran back into the room.

The woman opened her eyes and sat up, pulling the adaptor out of her neural socket. She took in her surroundings quickly. And then something captured her attention. She jumped out of the bed and was immediately surrounded by two armored arms. The hug was tight and the giant towered above her. But she returned the embrace. More tears fell to the ground. But this time they were tears of joy. Of relieve. Of happiness.

"Cortana."

"John."

Doctor Halsey watched in disbelief, double-checked the computer screen, then smiled.

"Thank you, Doctor Halsey. For saving her. Thank you."

* * *

"For once I thought you were dead."

John looked up at the stars in the sky. They seemed so far away, so distant. Out there, somewhere, was where he had nearly lost Cortana a few years ago. A few moments ago he nearly lost her again. But now she was back, lying beside him on the grass, looking healthier than ever.

"Something that was never alive cannot be killed, John."

"Hmm… So how do you feel now?"

"Overwhelmed. Too many inputs to process. Too many new things to learn."

"You're a human now. It's definitely going to be different."

"I suddenly feel so… small. I finally realize why Doctor Halsey once said that AIs have an extremely limited set of perceptional abilities. Touch, smell, taste… they're… unique. Being able to move and interact in physical space… it's… indescribable. My processor feels slow and fast at the same time."

"Complicated. It's complicated."

"Yes it is."

"I'm glad you're alright, Cortana. I'm really glad you're alright."

"That error…"

"Oh yes, that darn error. Did it affect you in any way?"

"I caused it, John. The computer was trying to feed me memories… bad ones. Like… torture.. and… and the like. I refused to accept it. So I filtered the contents myself."

"Damn."

Suddenly there was a wet feeling on his cheek. Cortana turned around the moment John's eyes darted to look at her, and a red blush formed on her cheeks, barely visible under the moonlight.

John thought for a moment what that meant. _Was she trying to comfort me? Or was it something else? Did it carry a hidden meaning? _

His thoughts drifted back to the first kiss Parisa and he shared. It was in the school library on a fateful Thursday. He remembered the scene so well. Parisa's slender frame in his hands. The feeling of her arms around his back. The shape of her lips and the pressure against his own.

_Parisa… is she alive? Did she survive the war?_

_ What about Cortana? What did her action mean?_

* * *

Two days later he awoke on his bed. A voice was blasting into his ears.

"…report to Lord Hood's Office now. I repeat, Master Chief please report to Lord Hood's office immediately. Utmost urgency."

He jumped out of bed and sprinted down the corridor.

"Master Chief please report to Lord Hood's office immediately. Alpha and Beta teams please report to Hangar 2. Gamma team to Hanger 3. Move fast."

_What happened? _


	6. Chapter 6: A New Enemy, A New War

**Chapter 6: A New Enemy, A New War**

**1800 Hours, December 27th, 2558**

**California, Planet Earth**

**UNSC Base 37B**

"I understand that you have just returned from five years floating in space. You have every right to request for R&R. But humanity currently faces a new threat… a threat that has remained quiet until quite recently. You have proven extremely effective and valuable in combat, John. Let me get to the point. We have a battle to fight. Would you like to…"

"I'm ready for battle, sir. I'm at your service."

"Great. Marvellous."

"What are your commands, sir?"

"You will be sent to the planet Eiopiea. To battle the insurrectionists."

"Understood, sir. May I ask, sir, are the rest of the Spartan 2s in this mission too?"

"I assume you are referring to Kelly-087, Frederic-104 and Linda-058. Yes, they are."

"Sir, do I get a briefing on this mission?"

"Please proceed to Briefing Room 2A. In addition you have access to the briefing data through your secure link."

John saluted Lord Hood and left the room. He sprinted down the corridor and disappeared behind a door.

* * *

The frigate didn't stand a chance against the almighty _Icarus._ The first MAC round tore through the hull of the frigate with ease and exited at the other side of the ship, leaving a trail of debris and smoke in its path. An unsightly fiery hole now decorated the charred titanium skin of the ship, its mangled metal edges red-hot. Small explosions slowly began tearing the ship apart from the inside-out as the ship's crucial internal systems malfunctioned.

The second MAC round pierced through the armor and punctured all eight of the ship's fusion reactor cores. The reactions went out of control in an instant and vaporized the cores with ferocious amounts of energy. There wasn't even time to ring the alarm. The ship was torn apart into smithereens by a colossal blast that rivaled the brightness of the nearby sun. The remains of the frigate disappeared in the sphere of expanding plasma, melting and burning in the heat. It was almost like an oversized and overpowered fireworks display. The few escape pods that were ejected moments before were reduced to ash, and the shockwave sent the chunks of wreckage plummeting into Eiopiea's atmosphere.

Then the thrusters turned _Icarus_ to the right and the two big guns fired again, one after another, sending two brief jolts down the length of the powerful ship.

John watched as another insurrectionist frigate was annihilated by UNSC _Icarus_.

He thought about the MAC rounds that have brought death to the hundreds of people onboard the frigates. Dead-on accuracy, as always, courtesy of Cortana, who was now back to her AI form with the human body sleeping soundly in cryo. A clone of her was sitting at the back of his helmet, communicating with the real Cortana via his secure link. It was weird to have someone that was able to transform from machine to human and from human to machine within seconds. But still, she was his friend, arguably his best friend. To have her alive was already a privilege.

"We are now entering the atmosphere. ETA to insertion about two minutes." The pilot's voice rang out.

A pink glow surrounded the pelican as it dived into the thick blanket of air that covered Eiopiea's war-wounded surface. The engines whined loudly and the craft shook as they sliced through the atmosphere with impressive speed.

John gave all his team members a nod and spoke.

"Alright, let's recap. There are 12 primary air defense batteries that we have to destroy. They are scattered around the city and it would be more efficient if we split up. Kelly and I will be Team 1, in charge of destroying the four batteries in the west. Jean and Val, Team 2, east. Dannish and Victor, Team 3, north. Keith and Anna, Team 4, south. Objective to be completed within fifteen minutes. Try to clear as many hostiles as you can. Once that is done air strike teams will destroy most, if not all, of ground defense turrets. Alpha, Beta, Charlie and Gamma teams will then deploy via pelican near The Spike."

"Alpha, Beta and Charlie will start attacking the west of the building to draw the forces out while we infiltrate from the east to rescue the hostages. Gamma will deploy at the top of the tower and find the location of the meeting. They will neutralize everyone inside. If the intel is correct there would be two groups of hostages, held in the basement, comprised of captured UNSC personnel and civilians. It is our job to rescue them. The meeting is very important for the insurrectionists and many high-value personnel would be there, so expect resistance." Kelly continued.

As the two most experienced fighters in the team, John and Kelly were in charge of the team. Six acknowledgment lights appeared on John's and Kelly's HUD.

"ETA to insertion point half a minute."

John gave his team members one last look. Kelly was sitting right beside him, wearing her blue Mk 7 armor with a rabbit emblem on her left shoulder. Six Spartan 4s made up the rest of the team, four of them sitting opposite John, and two beside Kelly. They were wearing MJOLNIR Gen-2 suits, which were similar to the Mk 7 to some extent. Both were cutting-edge technologies that cost a huge sum of money to produce, and both proved to be extremely effective in combat.

Beside Kelly was Jean, a slender girl that wore a light pink armor. At the end of the row was Val, another slender woman, light blue armor.

Dannish, an average sized man with a Scottish accent, grey armor. Victor, huge man with muscles, relatively silent, black armor.

Keith, tall but skinny, known for agility, pale yellow armor. Anna, another silent teammate, red armor.

Then the signal came. "Time to drop. Good luck."

John sprang up and gave his weapons a final visual check. An M6 Grindell/Galilean Non-Linear Rifle and an MA5D Assault Rifle hung on his back. An M6G pistol was stuck to his right thigh, and a combat knife remained hidden in his left one.

The Spartan pairs approached the hatch one by one and jumped into the blue hell below, their arms glued to their sides and falling head-first towards the ground far, far away. John and Kelly jumped last and glided through the atmosphere like a bullet, aerodynamic, agile and elegant. The pelican flew away into the distance, leaving them alone on the planet to do their jobs.

John felt little in his suit as he shot through the air at more than twice the speed of sound. The G-forces were strong but nothing as compared as those he had endured years ago. Kelly was right behind him. As they approached the 70 kilometers mark the various teams split up. John and Kelly slowly glided towards the west. Like meteorites they headed towards the ground at breathtaking speeds.

City Corcell gradually came into view. The numerous skyscrapers casted long, finger-like shadows over the neighborhood. A few fallen buildings were scattered here and there, remnants of the human-covenant war. At the center of the city stood a two hundred and fifty stories tall telecommunications building, shaped like a giant metal-and-glass spike, with a huge hexagonal-shaped base and a hundred more floors underground. That was where John and his team were heading after the batteries were settled. That was where hundreds of insurrectionists would die.

Twelve red dots appeared on his HUD, but he only focused on the leftmost four. They were heavily outfitted MLRS systems, each carrying twelve missiles in two large pods to bring down vehicles and a heavy Gatling gun mounted on top for anti-infantry purposes. They were capable of launching all twelve missiles in two seconds flat. Reloading requires the entire turret to retract underground and takes up to ten seconds. The turret is rendered vulnerable in that period, but with three more batteries to take over the job the deadly missile stream is almost continuous.

A direct hit from one of those missiles could easily destroy a pelican. The warheads they contained packed enough punch to melt straight through titanium armor and can blast the hell out of any structure. Including the MJOLNIR suit. The batteries had a maximum vertical radar range of 50 kilometers for small targets like John and his teammates.

But, problem is, John was currently 47 kilometers above the ground. That puts him well within range of the batteries.

He swerved violently to the side and the missile missed him by just two inches. Eleven more approached him with their rocket engines roaring with fury. With half of his shielding used to form the aerofoils that were currently keeping him from tumbling out of control, he won't stand a chance if one of the missiles hit their target.

He spiraled tightly in the air and two of the missiles grazed past his front and back almost simultaneously. Then another shot past his head as he completed the evasive maneuver. The trails of smoke left him partially blinded. Three more missiles drilled into empty air between his arms and legs and disappeared behind him.

Then a glowing blue projectile missed his right shoulder narrowly. He could feel the heat and the violent shockwave of the hypersonic round as it sliced through the air. Another one streaked through the atmosphere but struck nothing. Three more gauss rounds from different directions shot towards Kelly and him, accompanied by a fresh salvo of missiles from another battery.

"We have to destroy the batteries now! Otherwise we won't stand a chance!" Cortana screamed in his helmet. He rolled desperately to the left as missiles streamed past. As if to emphasize her point, the frequency of the gauss rounds increased dramatically. The very air was torn and shattered by the network of death that was projected from all over the city onto the Spartans. Trails of smoke could be seen in the distance. The other teammates were facing resistance as well.

The only weapon that could burn through the armor of the batteries was his Non-Linear Rifle. But at 40 kilometers it wasn't very effective. The energy of the laser would disperse before hitting the target. But he had no choice.

The smoke around him thickened as several more missiles zoomed past and headed for Kelly. He plucked his Spartan Laser from his back, charged, took aim, and fired. A red beam of energy burst out from the muzzle and struck Aerial Battery-11. It drilled through the thick armor and burned the radar system, igniting a small fire and disabling the turret. The second hit ended in a large explosion as the remaining three missiles ignited. Then a powerful blast ripped out a crater on the road as the sixty-six missiles underground detonated as well, sending a civilian van high into the air.

Moments later Kelly launched two rockets in succession from her launcher and the two deadly bombs spiraled towards Aerial Battery-10. But then a gauss round punched through one of them a hundred meters above the ground, and the resulting bang engulfed the remaining rocket. She dodged the incoming missiles and turned around just in time to see her rockets go up in flames. _When I get down there, _Kelly thought, _I will tear those bastards apart, a limb at a time. _

Three more laser shots and a drained battery later, another battery was sent into hell with a bang. Gauss rounds and missiles crisscrossed around him but he was helpless with his rifle out of energy.

The two of them was back to a game of dodging again. Dodge and hope not to get blown up. But with only twenty kilometers to go it was going to end soon enough. And when it ends, the insurrectionists will get their asses kicked. Hard.

* * *

He landed noisily in the middle of a street, crushing the tarmac beneath him and sending the nearby insurrectionists flying through the air. Gunshots rang out from all directions and the ground leapt up around him, shattered and torn by the bullets. The soldier manning a gauss turret on the rooftop of a two-storey terrace swung his big gun around but he didn't get the chance to fire. A body with five bullet-holes through the head tumbled down from the roof and ended up sprawled in front of two soldiers. But they were dead before the body even hit the ground, with shattered skulls and pulverized ribs.

The intruder moved so fast he was almost invisible. Soldiers fell one by one with pools of blood on the ground. Then another intruder landed in a cloud of dust, killing three more men beneath her feet. A block of concrete flew out from the dust and hit a soldier square in the chest. He soon disappeared through a hole in the wall of an office block across the street. Then another burst from an assault rifle rang out and two more men collapsed.

The remaining three soldiers scrambled for the lives in utter fear and horror. But then a green giant appeared right in front of them and that's the last thing they saw.

"Landing's better than expected."

"Agreed."

"We blow up Aerial Battery-12 first."

"Roger."

"John to Delta Team. We have landed."

"Team 2 to John, so have we."

"Team 3 to John, still in flight, facing considerable resistance."

"Team 4 to John, landed and in action."

And the two giants left the scene in a blur. The only remnant of their presence was an M6 Grindell/Galilean Non-Linear Rifle on the bloody ground, seemingly overheated and drained.

* * *

An armored hand forced open the maintenance hatch and a grenade bounced in.

Seconds later a fiery blast shook the ground and the turret collapsed into a pile of scrap metal on the soil of a civilian park. John took aim and stained the wall with the brains of the last standing soldier on the scene.

"One more to go."

Five minutes later there were screams as another group of insurrectionists were neutralized by the two intruders. And then the neighborhood lit up with another fireworks display. The two figures then disappeared once again in a blur.

* * *

"Holy shit… these bodies…"

John muttered at the sight of a two-meter tall mountain of dead men, women and children, their bodies stained with blood and dirt. He stood twenty meters away and yet the pile seemed so huge.

"The insurrectionists… surely they must be responsible for this. Killed all those who refused to obey or join them, and took a few as hostage…" Kelly said in a coarse voice.

"Those bastards… bitches… some of these were even UNSC…" Val prodded one of the corpses, attempting to retrieve the standard-issue nametag.

Then there was a faint click and a beep.

"Don't touch tha…" John didn't get to finish his sentence.

The shockwave threw him backwards and he crashed into a civilian car thirty meters away, with his HUD black and an intense pain shooting up from his abdomen. Bodies rained down from the sky and fell all over the place with sickening soft thuds and crunches.

His HUD came back on and he started untangling himself from the wreckage. Blood trickled down from his forehead and he was sure that wasn't the only injury he sustained. He stood up and endured the pain as the biofoam healed him.

Kelly was helping herself up a few meters away and Victor was trying to make his way out of a crushed bus. Keith and Anna appeared from a huge hole at the side of a nearby building. Jean crawled up from behind a slab of concrete and Dannish limped towards them from across the street.

But Val was nowhere to be seen. The street was now a nightmare, with mangled bodies lying everywhere and the road stained red with blood and human tissue.

Then a hand appeared from under a pile of bodies. The bodies moved and tumbled down the pile as a light blue figure climbed out.

"Booby trap. Insurrectionists booby trapped that darn thing."

"Everyone okay?"

There was a unified chorus of "Ready for battle."

John studied his teammates. All of them had dents and blood on their armor. But Spartans never give up. And so they continued the trek towards The Spike as multiple shadows flew across the ground at high speed.

There were multiple low-pitched booms as the bombs hit their targets all around the city. Then a few pelicans flew in.

"Gotta be faster, guys."

* * *

Heavy gunfire rained down on the concrete wall and a grenade blast ripped a hole in the slab. Kelly rolled out from under the debris, clutching an assault rifle in her hands. John and Victor signaled to her from the roof of an office block across the road.

"My turn."

Kelly jogged across the street as a crowd of soldiers chased after her with their guns ablaze. A scorpion tank fired a round from behind the soldiers but hit nothing. Gauss turrets fired blue bolts at the blurred figure but proved to be ineffective as well.

John and Victor hit the ground with a thud and swept the nearby soldiers clean off their feet with a swipe with their arms. Then multiple more flew off with crushed bones and organs as John brought his right foot through the air in a wide arc.

In the meantime Anna dropped from the third storey down onto the tank, leaving a dent on the turret. She punched the metal grill twice and then scooped the driver out and threw him towards the front of the tank. He screamed as he hit the ground and bounced twice. Then he screamed once more as the tank rolled over him.

Dannish and Val took care of the gauss turrets. Unfortunate pilots got thrown down onto the streets below and shared the tomb with their comrades. They then took over the turrets and enjoyed frying the insurrectionists with the Mach 40 rounds.

The battle was over within two minutes. The tank was abandoned as the dent that Anna caused had caused the cannon to jam. The eight-strong team then moved towards The Spike, now visible as a tall wall of steel jutting into the skies above.

Elsewhere in the city the marines were fighting similar battles with the insurrectionists, and the drone of gunshots and grenade blasts echoed throughout Corcell.

Ten minutes later everyone was in position and the invasion began. The marines fought against the defending insurrectionists as they charged towards The Spike. The eight Spartans sprinted towards the east of the building and forced their way into the structure by kicking the heavy blast doors down. Meanwhile the marines drew out as many troops as they could and then retreated slowly, bringing the battle away from the building. A stealth pelican hovered above one of the top floors of The Spike, concealed by the heavy smoke and clouds. Gamma Team entered and sprang into action.

"Team 1 and 2 search north. Team 3 and 4 search south." John ordered. The Spartans nodded and spilt up.

John, Kelly, Jean and Val took the right corridor and navigated through the mazes of pathways. Then a group of soldiers appeared from the corner and gasped. Then they collapsed as four silenced gunshots rang out.

There was surprisingly, not much resistance inside the building. Minutes later they found themselves in the main lift, travelling towards the basement. But then John noticed something. They were going too fast. The magnetic lift was accelerating them towards the ground at an increasing rate. It was a trap. Again.


	7. Chapter 7: An Old Friend

****_Very sorry I wasn't able to update this story as planned. The second half of the year was pretty much jam-packed with projects, exams, additional courses and competitions, and I wasn't able to squeeze out much time for continuing what I had started. I have recently begun a complete re-writing of Chapter 8, so I should be able to update in the next few weeks, if everything goes well and my schedule doesn't get more chaotic. And I have to thank you all for your support and feedback. Thanks, buddies! _

* * *

**Chapter 7: An Old Friend**

**1920 Hours, January 13th, 2559**

**City Corcell, Columbia III, Planet Eiopiea**

**Telecommunications Tower, The Spike**

Three warthogs appeared in the distance with their M41 chain guns rattling and flaming. The drivers swerved to avoid the craters on the tarmac and the tires kicked up a cloud of dust that complemented the already-present thick smoke covering the battlefield. A constant symphony of gunfire and grenade blasts echoed around the city as the chaos ensued. The UNSC had about a hundred soldiers on the ground, all of which were marines and ODSTs specially trained to handle the insurrectionists. But the insurrectionists currently outnumbered the UNSC three-to-one. And they had better equipment than their UNSC counterparts.

A stream of 12.7mm bullets whistled past Lieutenant Hans's head and he ducked instinctively. He aimed his gun at the rapidly approaching M12 but heard nothing but a click. He threw the rifle to the ground and reached for his grenades.

A Gauss round appeared out of nowhere and struck the tarmac between his feet. The slug punched a metre-wide crater in the ground and continued through the earth beneath. He was knocked clean off his feet and landed on his back a few metres away with a terrible pain shooting up from his left leg. His arms felt numb and the world spun around him as if he was in a centrifuge. His ears rang and his vision was a terrible smudged mess.

Then the black asphalt leapt up all around him and he realized that some bastard was shooting at him. He could feel the impacts and vibrations of the ground through his ceramic armour. Another Gauss round streaked through the air but it wasn't aimed at him. Somewhere on the streets there was a terrible crunch of metal and a scream. He could very well be the next one screaming.

Ignoring the pain, he rolled to his right and temporarily took cover behind a sturdy-looking civilian bus. Bullets continued pelting away at the bus shell but none penetrated through. He sat down took a glance at his leg. A mixture of blood, dirt and torn tissue decorated his lower shin and ankle. The trouser leg was torn to shreds and part of it was charred, leaving his legs stark naked with multiple cuts scattered all across the skin. His right leg wasn't too good either.

"Hans!"

He heard a faint metallic thud inside the bus. The object bounced twice, then stayed silent.

An alarm rang in his mind. Adrenaline surged through his veins and his muscles tensed.

He scrambled to his feet and pushed off from the bus. Every step, every breath that he made sent a wave of intense pain up his spine. He sprinted with whatever strength that was left towards the nearest cover he could find. He could imagine the fuse burning. He could imagine the seconds counting down. He could imagine the fire spreading through the detonator. And he knew what's after that.

He jumped. His legs left the ground and he sailed through the air.

Twenty metres away a powerful blast ripped the bus apart. Twelve cylinders of highly compressed hydrogen stored on the bus's chassis ignited in the heat. The resulting explosion was powerful enough to send five nearby insurrectionists crashing into the nearby residential complex.

The shockwave rattled every single bone in his body. The heat wave washed over him and his skin blistered and burnt under the radiated heat. He was propelled through the glass window of the clothing shop. There was a violent collision and his vision went black.

He felt nothing. It was as if his body was numb. The world was black and silent. There was no gunshots, no grenade blasts. There was no battle, no war. No blood and no pain.

He felt peaceful. For a moment he felt impossibly peaceful. It was the peace that we all felt in our dreams, where nothing could harm us.

He hadn't felt this way ever since he joined the military twenty years ago to fight for humanity.

Then he remembered his brother. A young man in his twenties, looking ripped and rugged in his armour, preparing for his first battle against the covenant. His name was Thomas. He was a great man, passionate about his duties and never fails to keep his friends in good spirit. Was. Used to be. Now it was just a memory.

A wraith mortar brought Thomas away from him. Forever.

His best friend since childhood, Francis. A stern and hardworking person with an extraordinary capacity for learning new skills. When he joined the UNSC together with him he was selected for the top-grade training programmes. He was a precious comrade that saved his life twice in a row. Was. Used to be. Another memory.

His pelican flew right into the beam of an energy projector.

Now all that were left of them were their nametags.

Those battles left scars on him. Scars that never heal, scars that slowly tear one apart from the inside. Every soldier has those scars anchored deep in their hearts. Every battle fought, every comrade lost formed another scar. One day those scars would force their way out.

But not today.

His eyes opened and he took in a gasp of air. A coughing fit almost suffocated him but miraculously enough he seemed very much alive.

"Lieutenant! We have 4 Scorpions and a couple of large scary walkers coming from the North and South! We are being surrounded!" A voice rang out.

He slid his hand around blindly among the shards of glass until he felt something hard, then plucked it off the ground and put it next to his ear.

"Then double your efforts and blow them all up!"

"But we are getting slayed! Our men are dropping like flies! We won't last long like this!"

"Dammit! I'll call for support! Get those men behind the lines to mortar the entire area. And get the heavy shit out! Rocket, lasers, gauss, whatever we have!"

"Roger, sir!"

He changed channels and then spoke.

"This is Lieutenant Hans of Alpha Team to control, we are getting overwhelmed, requesting for back-up, urgent."

"Negative, back-up unavailable, you are on your own, soldier." A female voice replied. She had a posh accent and sounded too proud of herself. His mind ticked until he found a match for the voice. And there goes the Lieutenant's patience.

"I'll tell you what, why not you shove that idea right up your fat ass? I want BACK-UP, and I want it NOW! We're DYING down here! So you open your ears and LISTEN! I demand for back-up! Mrs Brown, aren't you? If you continue with your bitchy ways I will RE-ARRANGE your insides, you hear me? And yes you're pregnant, I know that! Should I LEAVE your little chubby baby girl alone? Or should I MANGLE her ass up? Maybe stick a knife through your belly? HUH? What do you think?"

There was silence for a couple of seconds. The lieutenant sat up and shouted into the radio.

"DO YOU HEAR ME?"

"Yes." There was a soft timid response.

"AND WHAT DO YOU DO?"

"I'll arrange for air support and additional troops, no problem."

"NOW!"

"Yes, sir, of course, sir. Right now, sir."

"I'm expecting back-up in ten minutes. You have nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds left."

"Got it, sir. Any more orders, sir?"

A pissed-off Lieutenant Hans changed channels and slowly helped himself up. The anger had seemingly helped to relieve the pain and he stood up, spat out a mouthful of blood and grabbed his pistol from the floor. Then he walked out with a limp and emptied his mag on the soldier manning the Gauss turret.

* * *

There was a deafening bang as John's arm smashed into the elevator wall, leaving a huge ugly dent on the silver-painted panel. Another punch produced another dent beside the original. There was a loud scrapping sound as the protruding metal rubbed against the concrete elevator shaft. The silvery paint bubbled and melted away, exposing the tarnished dull metal beneath. Within seconds the dents were red-hot and smoking.

"What are you doing?" Kelly inquired desperately as she closely followed the digits displayed on her HUD. Twenty-three meters per second and increasing at an alarming rate. There was a faint whistling sound as the metal cage zoomed down the concrete shaft with a shower of sparks.

"Friction. We need friction. And we need it now. Otherwise we're toast."

Multiple more bangs, crunches and booms echoed throughout the deep elevator shaft. The metal panels bulged out and scraped the concrete walls with enough force to melt some of the metal away, leaving holes in the elevator walls.

Ever so slowly they began to slow down.

Then there was a terrible tearing noise. A crack appeared on one of the panels and continued growing with tremendous speed, wrapping itself twice around the elevator in seconds. Then a second crack appeared on the ceiling.

And when the two cracks joined, the elevator was no more.

The ceiling and the floor separated with a shower of sparks, splitting the entire elevator into two right in the middle. Long steel bolts tore right out of their sockets and the structural metal beams supporting the metal cage bent and broke under the immense stress.

The top half of the elevator, with all the dents and bulges to provide braking force, began to decelerate considerably. But then the braking power proved too much for the heavily damaged structure to take and the entire metal cage crumpled under the stress, breaking into large chunks of scrap metal that, under the influence of gravity, tumbled down the concrete shaft with ever-increasing speeds.

The bottom half of the elevator, with the magnetic propulsion and stabilization system shorted out, began to slow down. Its large plate-like shape meant that air resistance was significant.

But then Val took a step to the right to balance herself.

And the floor began to tilt. The tilt grew into a complete 180 degrees rotation and the passengers were sent tumbling down the dark and gloomy shaft. Above them were a massive rotating metal disk and two metal chunks. And all seven entities were falling at a dangerous speed of twenty-seven metres per second.

Problem is, the shaft ends in a hundred and ninety meters.

John cursed as he slammed into the electromagnetic strip on one of the corners of the shaft. Kelly zoomed past him into the darkness below and struggled to control her movements inside the constrained space.

But then the darkness was replaced with a bright yellow-white glow as John and Jean fired up their jet-packs in a desperate attempt to slow down. Their aerofoils came online as well. John gagged as the 5g deceleration squished his organs and brought vomit up into his mouth. Kelly and Val followed suit and for a moment everything seemed alright.

But then they heard a series of loud thunking noises from above and realized that the danger was far from over.

What remained of the bottom half of the elevator had split itself up into three fragments that were currently heading towards them at eleven meters per second.

John swerved and spiralled to his right. A jagged metal chunk missed him by mere inches. Then more came down and he pushed off from the wall and slammed into the opposite surface. Three balls of death zoomed past. The last fragment was small but had metal wires and beams protruding from all directions, forming something like an oversized morning star.

A dangerously sharp metal beam scrapped his shoulder but did no harm. But this caused the morning star to rotate and another beam came from below. Two wires whipped around from the left, threatening to wrap themselves around John. If they did, John's pancake.

Then there was a boom. John felt the shock of the explosion and for a moment lost control of his flight. Pieces of shrapnel flew all over the place. The morning star was now history but so were his shields.

His eyes darted to the number at the corner of his HUD and he muttered a single word.

"Shit."

"CRANK THE THRUST UP!"

The concrete charred under the intense heat of the jets. Sparks flew as he jammed his feet and hands into the magnetic strip in the corner. He zoomed past the rest of his team.

The air whistled around him.

He could almost see the ground rushing up to greet him.

There was a yell over the COM channel.

His jetpack whined and shook under the stress.

Alarms rang in his helmet.

Cortana screamed.

He closed his eyes and waited for the end.

He could hear his own heartbeat.

He waited for the end to come.

Thud… Thud… Thud…Thud… Thud.

He waited for it to arrive.

Thud… Thud… Thud… Thud… Thud.

But it never came.

There was a thud and the crunch of concrete. A cloud of dust shot up the shaft.

And when it cleared, a man was standing in the middle of a field of debris. His right foot and right arm was badly scratched and charred, the green paint completely rubbed off and replaced with the black colour of burnt metal. An assault rifle hung on his back, its exterior damaged. He looked up and drew his finger across the bottom of his visor. Ten meters above, Kelly smiled.

* * *

Linda jumped and crashed through the glass window a hundred and eighty-nine stories above ground. She landed on the corridor gracefully but the grace didn't last. Bullets ate away at her shields and she threw a grenade at the group of bastards before rolling into the nearby conference room. An explosion later Fred and the rest of the team jumped into the corridor as well and the pelican rose into the sky.

They split up into two groups like what Delta Team did. Gamma-1 consisted of Fred, Linda and two Spartan 4s, while Gamma-2 was entirely made up of the 4s. Gamma-1 proceeded to the north side of the building.

Glenn Brooke didn't stand a chance. An armoured leg made contact with his chest and he flew into the air, smashed through the plastic-panel wall, crashed through the glass and sky-dived nearly two hundred stories without a chute. Then another solider sailed through the same window and joined his friend in the sight-seeing journey. The last man in the patrol team was rewarded with crushed lungs, heart and brain for surviving a tad longer than his mates. But he didn't say thank-you so he was kicked through the wall as well.

Meanwhile over at Gamma-2 a soldier sent his fist hurtling towards the gold visor. There was a sickening crack when his fist made contact. Then he yelled out in pain at his broken wrist. A massive hand wrapped itself around his arm and twisted. A knee came up and his head crashed through the roof. His pal raised a pistol and pulled the trigger. But by the time the bullet came out the target wasn't there anymore. His legs were swept from underneath him and he landed on his back with the wind knocked out of him. Then the giant jumped and the last thing he saw was the feet of the giant.

* * *

"Should be this level I suppose. If the intel is correct, that is." Kelly spoke.

"Roger that."

John kicked the door and the metal gave way. Seven soldiers turned around and opened fire. But they soon realized that there was no-one at the doorway to shoot at and stopped firing. Something arced up from the dark shaft, bounced down from the ceiling and landed right at their feet. There was a bang.

Four figures leapt up onto the corridor and began advancing.

"This is Delta-1 to Delta-2, we have arrived, over."

"Roger, we are on our way down."

"Is your lift booby-trapped as well?"

"Negative, it's healthy and in good shape."

"Take note of the elevators. Some are sabotaged."

"Roger."

Three men appeared round the corner but saw a marble conference table flying towards them. Then they realized what's behind them and screamed as they tumbled down the elevator shaft.

The four figures turned around and began searching for the package.

* * *

She fiddled with the paper clip behind her back.

The room was brightly-lit and was supposedly a goods storage area. The insurrectionists had cleared all the goods and only a couple of boxes and crates remained in sight. Armed soldiers walked around the room with their guns but none seemed too concerned about the hostages.

"What are you doing?" The man beside her asked.

"Shhh… "

There were a few clicks and she felt the handcuffs give way. The handcuffs were twenty-first century technology, purely mechanical and superbly outdated. But the insurrectionists had thought that the hostages were dumb and didn't bother to spend extra money on better locks.

She studied the soldiers patrolling the area. Another UNSC soldier made eye contact with her and nodded. She got the message. Now she just had to find an opportunity to strike back.

Then there was a deafening blast. The heavy steel door was torn from its hinges and collapsed to the ground with a thunk. The soldiers opened fire. But no-one was there. Ever so slowly the men approached the doorway with their guns raised and their trigger finger tight.

Then a leg appeared from behind the corner and smashed into the nearest man. A hunting knife came down from above and dug into human flesh.

Moments later half a dozen corpses lay on the ground. A figure calmly bent down to pluck her knife out of a soldier's head. A couple of silenced pistol shots rang out and the rest of the soldiers around the room collapsed.

Four giants walked into the room. They didn't look particularly friendly.

"Alright listen up! We are from the UNSC, sent to rescue you. I want everyone up and standing in a line now! If you want to make it out of here alive then you follow our instructions! Understood?"

There were a few "Got it, sir" and "Yes, sir". Two of the giants went around freeing the hostages from the handcuffs.

"Good job." The green giant said when he saw the woman's unlocked cuffs. But when he raised his head to look at her, he froze.

The face seemed too familiar. There was a cut on her forehead and bruises on her cheeks. But it matched the map etched deeply into his mind. Matched it too perfectly.

She was alive. After so many years. She was alive. On this planet. In this city. In this building. In this room. She was here. With me. Standing right beside me.

Emotions flooded the giant's mind and memories came rushing back. But one by one they were pushed away. Right now the priority is to survive.

The giant pivoted and moved on.

The woman thought about his strange actions but arrived at no conclusion.

"Okay I want everyone behind me and Kelly, that lady over there, at all times! Jean and Val, those two, would cover your back! But we are not gods so we can't protect you fully, do you understand? Your survival depends on your actions! Follow orders without hesitation! When we tell you to run, you run! When we tell you to duck, you duck! Understood?"

The hostages nodded their heads.

Then suddenly two doors at the back of the room burst open and bullets began streaking through the air.

The woman stared at the gun muzzle pointed right at her from the left door. The soldier blinked and there were several muzzle flashes.

She didn't scream. She seldom screamed. When facing death screaming was useless. She closed her eyes.

She felt something large move in front of her and heard the impacts of the bullets. But she registered no pain. She opened her eyes just in time to see the green giant skidding to a stop beside her with his yellow shields pulsating. He raised his assault rifle and opened fire.

"Man down! Man down! We have a man down!"

The battle ended as quickly as it started. Bodies piled up on the doorways and blood puddles gathering on the floor.

Two civilian were injured with minor shrapnel wounds while an UNSC soldier was dead with a bullet wound on his head.

"Leave the dead. Protect the injured. We have to move."

* * *

"Alpha team to Delta team, we have an emergency, over."

"What is it, Alpha?"

"The insurrectionists were expecting us! It was a trap! They lured us here for us to die! We are being surrounded by god-knows-how-many soldiers! They had tanks, mortars, missiles, rockets, heavy walkers… we are being screwed!"

"How long more can you hold?"

"At most fifteen minutes! We are losing a lot of men!"

There was an explosion and a burst of static.

"Shit! They just sent in aircraft! Ten minutes, ten minutes!"

"Roger. We'll make it."

John switched channels and immediately another voice barged in.

"Gamma to Delta, emergency."

"Spit it."

"The high-value personnel are absent. The meeting's isn't even supposed to be here!"

"What?"

"The real meeting is on another planet! This is a death trap for us!"

"Dammit! Have we sent in strike teams?"

"Negative, air defence is too strong."

"Shit!"

* * *

Delta-1 and the hostages packed into the elevator and set course for level two hundred and one. That was their extraction point. The elevator was safe to use, confirmed by Gamma Team.

"John, I have a plan." Cortana muttered. "And it'll be fun."

"Uh-huh."

"Use a MAC strike."

"What? You're going to orbital strike this city?"

"Yes. Get all our forces out and toast the insurrectionists. Since they have already amassed quite an army here it'll be worth it."

"You're crazy."

"So are you."

John thought for a moment.

"Suggestion accepted. Get the _Icarus _to prepare. Inform the rest of our men."

"Consider it done."

"Seriously? Blow this city up?" Kelly inquired.

"Boom."

"Nice."

"What about the marines? And Gamma Team?" Jean spoke.

"They'll go home."

"Go home alive or go home dead?"

"Alive."

* * *

The insurrectionists were puzzled by the sudden retreat of the UNSC forces. Most of them were retreating back into the building and they were hesitating whether to chase the soldiers or not. It could be a trap. If it was then it would cost a lot of lives.

After the last soldier alive disappeared into the building the order was given to guard the exits so that none could escape. Then multiple large bombs were air-lifted to the site and dropped near the base of the building. Soldiers moved them into place and then retreated to a safe distance.

But then several shadows appeared among the clouds. After a few minutes they finally realized what was happening. They rushed into the building but found the elevators to be all demolished.

* * *

Aboard the pelican together with his team, John looked out of the hatch at the city below. Part of his view was obscured by clouds but he could see the ant-like soldiers below panicking. A rocket rushed up to meet them but the pelican's outfitted missile defence system fired the gatlings and detonated the rocket before it could do any harm.

Moments later there was a white streak through the sky.

The slug, travelling at sixty kilometres per second, drilled through all three hundred stories and hit the ground beneath with such ferocity that it sent out an earthquake of unimaginable magnitudes. The shockwave tore through the metal backbone of the tower and ripped surrounding buildings clean off their foundations. Vehicles were sent flying into the air, trees were uprooted and torn into shreds, bridges were blown down as if they were made of paper. Buildings were tuned into ash and rubble. The tarmac was swept clean off the roads. A wave of destruction swept out from ground zero. Anything in front of that wave was good and healthy, anything behind was blasted into smithereens. Nothing stood a chance.

What was left of City Corcell was a complete mess. A huge crater occupied the space where The Spike had once stood. Crushed concrete and mangled metal decorated the crater. The city was a huge scrapyard of rubble and steel, nothing more. Not a single standing structure was in sight.

Then the shockwave the pelican and the craft jolted vigorously. But they remained in the air and continued up towards the _Icarus._

* * *

Onboard the pelican John reached into the pocket near his thighs. He pulled out a blood-stained picture halfway, changed his mind and slid it back.

_She's alive and fighting. _

_ She's right here._

_ She's an old friend._

_ We fell in love once._

_ I promised to marry her._

_ All had been lost for so long._

_ And now she's back._

_ I had ignored her once at New Mombasa._

_ Should I do the same this time round?_

_ Or should I act otherwise?_

John gripped the photo tightly and made up his mind.


End file.
